All posts by Rod Lott

Terror Train (1980)

When I was a child, Terror Train freaked me out. Today, I realize there’s nothing scary about it, outside of a creepy Groucho Marx mask, an overabundance of disco tunes, and hairdos as misbegotten as the truly awful dialogue. Still, the movie’s enjoyable enough as a partially derailed example of the ’70s’ slasher craze.

Basically Halloween on a train, but with the menacing suspense left behind at the station, this choo-choo chiller details what happens (bad things!) when a bunch of asshole college seniors embark on a coke-and-booze-fueled train trip, complete with David Copperfield doing a magic show. They all wear Halloween costumes, even though it’s New Year’s Eve.

Smart, they’re not. Especially because that nerdy pledge they humiliated with a mean prank four years ago is all aboard for revenge. They made him think he was gonna make it with Jamie Lee Curtis, but had a corpse waiting instead. So he dons mask after mask and goes bonkers with a big ol’ knife.

In an unrated cut, Terror Train might have real bite. As is, it’s more of a curiosity than ticket-punching winner. Jamie Lee doesn’t even get much to do, but the third-act sequence with her in a conductor’s cage is the only set piece that approaches real fright. It leaves big questions in terms of plot holes and logic, plus the burning “Will they cast Criss Angel for the inevitable remake?” —Rod Lott

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Seoul Raiders (2005)

This good, but not-as-good sequel to 2001’s Tokyo Raiders again centers on all-around good-guy private eye Tony Leung. He’s the only holdover from the previous Mission: Impossible-style Asian actioner. Here, Tony retrieves counterfeit American currency plates from enemy hands, intent on returning them to U.S. hands, but immediately finds himself duped and pursued by bad guy Richie Ren.

No fear, however, as Tony is aided by too-cute Transporter baggage Shu Qi and a bevy of thinly drawn beauties. Expect great action and style to burn. Don’t expect lucidity. Seoul Raiders grows tiresome in its final third, but overall, it’s fun enough, and Leung is nothing if not charismatic. —Rod Lott

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Captivity (2007)

If every home came with a built-in Elisha Cuthbert, there’d be no housing crisis. The evil dude in Captivity keeps one in his basement, albeit against her will. Even though the movie stinks, I still want one. After all, I’ve seen The Girl Next Door. Four times. She looks like fun.

Here, she’s Jennifer, a high-fashion model who carries a poodle as an accessory. She’s supposed to be über-famous, yet she goes completely unnoticed in a crowded nightclub as she sips her roofie martini. She wakes up in the gloomy basement of her kidnapper, who has some mini-Saw games in store for her.

These sequences feel tacked-on, as if an afterthought. So does a midpoint revelation that Jennifer’s not alone: There’s a cute boy (Daniel Gillies) trapped in the adjoining room! This is convenient, because not only can they maybe help each other out, but also, sex can be had.

Larry Cohen co-wrote the script, which isn’t up to the level of his other thrillers of that era, Cellular and Phone Booth. But how to explain twice-Oscar-nominated director Roland Joffé at the helm? You can’t. He does bring a visual style to the show, but that’s about it. —Rod Lott

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Timeline (2003)

Although it’s adapted from a swiftly paced Michael Crichton novel to which it stays fairly faithful, the stunningly weak Timeline is a dreadfully dull excuse for a sci-fi action thriller, not to mention a career low for director Richard Donner.

A group of graduate students is excavating an old castle in France when a strange message from their professor that carbon-dating suggests is 600 years old. Turns out the old coot has wayback-machined himself to the 14th century! The corporation behind the technology making it all possible recruits a few of the kids to go back in time as well to save him.

And how I wish I could go back in time to save myself two hours and four bucks. This is not a story — it’s an endlessly cycling collection of footage of knights falling down, students climbing out of houses, swords clanging, and our heroes checking their “countdown markers” to see how much time they have left to make their rescue. In the spirit of things, I kept checking the readout on my DVD player to see how much more crap was left to unload before the closing credits.

If I hadn’t read the novel beforehand, I never would. There are so many things wrong with this movie that I lost count. But I have mustered up enough energy to recall three:
• Scottish comedian Billy Connelly — Howard Hesseman’s replacement on Head of the Class — plays the professor. Do you remember how annoying it is to hear Connelly speak? Me, too. I’d leave him trapped, because even powerfully grating voices like his can’t travel six centuries.
A.I.’s Frances O’Connor looks like an elf. And I don’t mean a cute elf, but a gnarly elf with food poisoning and gonorrhea.
• Paul Walker — the himbo star of The Fast and the Furious franchise — is a truly terrible actor. But he is prettier than any of the females in the movie, which is never a good sign. —Rod Lott

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A Study in Terror (1965)

Years before Bob Clark did the same with Murder by Decree, director James Hill pitted Sherlock Holmes against Jack the Ripper in A Study in Terror, a more-than-servicable entry in Holmes pastiche cinema. Strange how it was promoted with a campaign comparing it to TV’s campy Batman, because the master detective is neither a superhero, nor is this film campy.

It is, however, surprisingly bloody for its time. And pretty good, although slow by today’s rough-and-tumble standards. In his lone appearance as Holmes, John Neville does a terrific job, almost as if he knew this was his one shot; Donald Houston is his Watson, and Robert Morley and Judi Dench are among the supporting players.

Plot? We’ve pretty much already said it. Like From Hell, it’s all about the Ripper ripping up — or stabbing, to be precise — London’s prostitutes. Here, their cups runneth over their corsets, and they’ll all pretty hot. Not so much once they get a knife through the neck, although some people are into that sort of thing.

Producer Herman Cohen cuts some corners, but not when it comes to splashing on ever-vibrant color. The game is afoot … and fun! —Rod Lott

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